The Game
by gjnnypotter
Summary: The war is over and Harry is struggling. Ron has a plan to cheer him up - a plan that may include quite a bit of booze. Rating is for strong language.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter - I know, it's a shocker. **

"Harry I'm bored."

"You've said."

"No, I'm bored."

"I know Ron."

"Let's go and do something."

"Pardon?"

"I said let's go and do something - anything - I don't care what - before I go crazy!"

"But your mum said-"

"I know what she said, but what she doesn't know won't kill her."

The sun was setting on the Burrow. It was a pleasantly warm evening for July, not too hot but certainly not cold. Harry and Ron were lounging out in the garden, hidden from Mrs Weasley's worried eyes behind a clump of trees. The Battle had been a mere few months ago and Mrs Weasley was still concerned about the pair of them leaving the confines of house after night had fallen - and rightfully so. There had been many threats made against Harry's life by a bunch of rogue death eaters out for revenge, and Molly had strictly forbidden them from leaving the safety the Burrow's wards offered. They were both of age though, adults, so she couldn't really keep them there against their will - but the thought of causing her any unnecessary worry made Harry squirm with guilt.

"I'm not sure." Harry said, running a nervous hand through his hair while glancing back at the house.

"Come on it'll be fine!" Ron stood up and threw is hands in the air in a placating gesture. He paced over to Harry and stood over him, offering out a hand that Harry grudgingly took. He straightened up and looked over his shoulder again to the Burrow, where he knew Mrs Weasley would be settling down for the night. He bit his lip and sighed, before nodding at Ron.

"If she finds out, I'm blaming you."

Ron smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "That's fine by me."

"Where are we going then?"

"You'll see." Ron started walking to the gate where they would be able to apparate from. Harry was by his side. He couldn't help but feel bad for going against the promise he made to Mrs Weasley, but the thought of being able to go out and enjoy himself with Ron for a few hours made him grin with anticipation.

The months since the Battle hadn't been easy for anyone, but Harry was having a particularly hard time of it. He would wake up screaming and on more than one occasion he had forgotten to put up a silencing charm and ended up waking the entire house. He found himself becoming caught up in his memories at the most random and inconvenient times. Slipping into flashbacks while at the dinner table, seeing a flash of green light speeding towards him in a forest clearing. Even looking after Teddy was taking its toll on him, as every time he looked into the baby's eyes all he could see was Remus looking back at him. It made him feel some semblance of pity for the people who knew his own mother, he understood now how taxing looking him in the eye must have been.

However now was not the time for sorrow. So when Ron offered his arm, Harry grasped it with a trepidatious smile. The tight squeezing sensation of apparition only lasted for a few seconds, but he was grateful when it was over. Harry could hear loud shouts in the distance before he opened his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Middlesbrough"

"Ok," Harry said slowly, "Care to tell me why we're in Middlesbrough?"

"We are here, my dear friend, to get you well and truly pissed." Ron said, clapping Harry on the back as he steered him out of the dark alleyway they appeared in, out onto the busy street ahead of them.

The street was lined with small shops and a couple of pubs that were packed full to the brim. People were spilling out of the door, craning their heads to see something inside. They were chanting, but what they were chanting Harry couldn't make out for the life of him.

"Merlin, is it normally this busy?" Ron shouted into Harry's ear as they pushed past the crowds of enthusiastic muggles spilling out of the door of a pub called O'Connells.

"How should I know? I've never been here before have I?" Harry said while weaving through the throngs of people to get to the bar.

"Fair enough. There must be some sort of event on. Reminds me of the Leakey when there's a Quidditch match on the wireless. George recommended this place to me, said he came here with Angelina once and it was nice and - sorry!" Ron hastily apologised after knocking straight into dejectedly pissed off looking muggle in a yellow and green shirt. The man glared at Ron before turning back to look at a small television screen perched in the corner of the pub. Harry followed the mans gaze to the screen and realised with a slight groan why the crowds were so large.

"Of all the nights you want to get drunk in a bar that's not the Leakey, you just had to choose this one?" Harry hissed into Ron's ear while pointing up at the screen. Ron stared at the screen in amazement before turning excitedly back to Harry.

"What is that? That is incredible! Is that the thing you told me about back in sixth year - a feletision?"

"Television."

"Right, that's what I said."

"Mmhhm, so it was." Harry arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"What is it showing? Looks like that crazy game Dean is always going on about."

"Crazy game, lad?" A middle aged man turned to face the pair of them, his beer tipping precariously in his hand as he swivelled round, almost splashing the drink over his blue strip. "You can't be from around these parts. That right there-" he pointed passionately at the TV "- is the World Cup final. Brazil against France. Biggest game in four years, you boys should be glad you ain't missing it!" the man spoke with a hearty grin and a lofty expression, he reminded Harry distinctly of Slughorn.

"I'll just get the drinks then, shall I?" He didn't wait for Ron's response and instead pushed past a couple of people to get to the bar, leaving Ron to discuss the foreign matter of Football with the kind faced muggle. Harry waved the bartender over and received a rather pitying look from the young woman. She smiled with a pained expression.

"This your first time here? I can tell - you look awfully flustered. I get it, don't worry. My colleagues and I drew straws to see who would all work tonight, and low behold I drew a short one. That's just my luck." She shook her head and sighed dramatically, causing Harry to grin slightly. "God I'm sorry! Here I am blethering - what can I get you?"

"I'll just have two pints please, that'd be great." Harry had to shout so he could be heard over the noise of the crowd shouting at the players in the screen to "just pass the bloody ball already!"

"Sure thing." The bartender handed him two full glasses that Harry awkwardly paid for and carried back to the spot he and Ron had claimed as their own. Ron's face lit up as he saw Harry weave his way back towards him.

"Harry! Thanks mate-" Harry handed him his glass and watched on smirking as Ron chugged down half of his drink in one go. Ron wiped the froth from his face with his arm, the glow from the TV giving him a green tinge, "- listen, this muggle tele thing is brilliant! Imagine if we had that back at the Burrow, actually getting to see a Quidditch game instead of just listening to it! We should get George on it once the shop gets going properly again." Ron closed his eyes and sighed with a blissful smile before peeling one eye open to see Harry laughing at him.

"What're you laughing at? It's a great-" but Ron was cut off by half of the pub erupting in cheers and whistles, while the other half scoffed and shouted profanities to nobody in particular. The noise was deafening, people were waving their blue scarves in the air and were punching their drinks up in victory. The man reminiscent of Slughorn spun round on his heel, a look of sheer joy gracing his features, to face Harry and Ron and he slapped them both of the back - hard. Ron snorted as Harry stumbled slightly, sloshing his drink down his front.

Harry had never seen anything like the scenes in front of him before. The noise in the pub was deafening as the commentator screamed out that the score was now two nil to France. Even the Brazilian fans in the pub grudgingly wore looks of awe at the goal that had just been scored. He had been to the Quidditch World Cup final in the summer before his forth year, and the atmosphere there was similar to the one here - however the muggle environment, no major threats to worry about and the fact he was in a pub with his best mate made this final feel just that bit more intimate.

He looked to his side and saw Ron with one of the biggest smiles Harry had ever seen on his face, and so Harry couldn't bring himself to be annoyed by his soaking t-shirt. He was beginning relax his previously tense stature as he began to feel more comfortable in this new environment, and seeing Ron chug down his pint while being egged on by the chants of the muggles around him made the last thread of worry Harry had disappear.

Hell, what is there to loose?

Harry caught Ron's eye and tossed down what was left of his drink, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly in satisfaction at his friends approving look.

Ron nodded his head, laughing, he slapped Harry on the back, "That's more like it! I'll get the next round."

Ron got the next round, and the round after that and Harry the fourth along with one after. By the time they had finished their fifth round, Ron's goal in getting Harry pissed had been achieved. Well and truly achieved.

The pair of them each had one arm each slung round the others shoulders, their free hand grasping a tall glass that was filled precariously to the brim. Harry's cheeks were flushed and he was leaning heavily on Ron. He seemed to be having a slightly harder time coping with the drink than his gangly friend. Harry took another swig of his drink, however it was then that one of the Brazilian players were fouled.

Harry choked as Ron hollered abuse at the referee, flapping his hands wildly in fury and he accidentally elbowed Harry in the ribs.

"Oi! You lousy ref! He barely touched him! Merlin's saggy left-"

"What he said! He barely toush-t- touched him," Harry shouted, gesturing with his glass towards the game while looking to Ron, "what a joke! Is this a joke? Imagine if they were this biased in Quid- what? Don't shush me like that I was speaking! That's just rude." Harry's expression melted into one of exaggerated hurt as he removed his arm from around Ron's shoulders and clutched his chest as if he were genuinely in pain.

Ron - who himself was only slightly less drunk than Harry looked horrified. He grasped Harry's shoulder and squeezed it hard, looking straight into his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. That was mean of me."

"It's ok, I forgive you."

"Thank you for your forgiveness."

"It was no problem," Harry gave Ron a hearty pat on the back and a wider than normal smile before draining the rest of his glass in one long chug.

The match was nearing its end and the French supporters were all going riot, while the Brazilian fans watched on with the hope that their team could score 2 more goals in 5 minutes - a feat that they knew was unlikely. Most of the pubs occupants were completely hammered, those in blue singing a drunken rendition of 'We are the Champions' while receiving disgruntled glares from those in yellow and green. Ron was completely immersed in the game as if he were watching the Canons play.

"Come on Goovash you glorious bastard."

He hollered to the screen while linking arms with a tall blonde muggle who was standing just next to him.

"It's pronounced Guivarch." She turned to smirk at him, unwinding her arm from his as she did so.

"S'wat I said, isn't it Harry?"

"Hmm? Oh right, yeah - that's what he said."

"Oh?" she nodded sceptically, "I don't suppose you know what position he plays then?" She challenged them, crossing her arms and

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment, "don't suppose he's a-" He made an inappropriate gesture with his hands "-kind of guy by any chance?" He asked seriously while Harry dissolved into giggles beside him.

The French-stripped girl looked torn between looking disgusted or amused, so she settled for shaking her head slightly and muttering, "so immature," under her breath, the corners of her mouth twitching as she spun on her heel back round to watch the match with her friends.

Ron, meanwhile looked baffled.

"What was that all about? She asked a question and I answered it!"

Harry opened his mouth, about to reply with a sarcastic comment, when suddenly the hoards of muggles around them erupted in excited shouts.

"Come on, Come on, Come on Zidane you beautiful bast-."

"Yes boys, go on-"

Hands were covering mouths.

Fingers clutching at hair. Fists clenched round glasses of bitter.

Harry had his eyes fixed on the game. He reached out blindly to his side, arm waving through the air until he eventually found Ron's hand and grabbed it - pulling his best mate closer to him in anticipation. Ron clutched back, his grip unyielding.

On the screen, they could see a small player in blue zip towards the goals - kicking a small white ball that went streaking into the back of the net.

"ZIDANE I LOVE YOU YOU GORGEO-"

"Get the fuck in there!"

"C'MON BOYS!"

Drinks were flung into the air, and the frazzled bar staff couldn't do anything to prevent the alcohol from raining down upon both the people and the floor. Harry and Ron punched their drinks into the air, Ron hollering joyous expletives to anyone who would listen and Harry drunkenly professing his love towards the French team.

It was then that the final whistle blew and the large crowd slowly began to file out onto the street, vacating the cramped pub. The sun had set, leaving a dark dusky pink sky behind. Chants could be heard echoing down the street as the elated muggles made their way home, most of them tripping over themselves as they stumbled away.

Harry was leaning heavily on Ron as they ambled back to the alleyway they had appeared in. He caught his foot on the kerb as they crossed the road from the pub to the opposite pavement, causing himself to stagger slightly. Muttering intelligibly under his breath he straightened up again, cursing all the way.

"Please remind me to thank George for telling me 'bout this place. That was brilliant, I chose I good night to be bored!" Ron exclaimed at an unnaturally high volume as both he and Harry turned into the dark side alley.

"Don't try and pretend you knew that football game was going to be on, you barely knew what it even was before tonight." Harry slurred slightly, however he has basically shouting when compared to Ron's loud rambling. His hair was damp and sticky from the beer he had thrown into the air, and his shirt was still sodden from when the Slughorn-esque muggle had hammered him on the back making him . But in spite of this, he was feeling as light as a feather - like nothing could drag him down from his current residency on cloud nine. It was as if the sound dial on all of his worries and fears had been turned down to mute for the first time in months, maybe even years. There was no weight left to weigh down his shoulders.

It was a truly wonderful feeling.

Harry shifted slightly to face the drunken Weasley next to him as Ron shook his head, hair flying and sending little drops of alcohol in every direction, while looking sheepish at Harry's last comment. An immense surge of gratitude rose up from deep within Harry, and before he knew it - he had opened his mouth.

"I'm glad you were bored this evening, and thank you bringing me here - guess Middlesbrough isn't as shit as I thought it would be. Your mum'll be fuming if she ever finds out about this, but I don't mind-" Harry put his hands on Ron's shoulders, eyes shining as he spoke in a slow and emotional tone, "-because if it weren't for you I would be dead - literally. I'd still be at the bottom of that bloody pond. I don't know what I'd do if I'm honest. Thanks for sitting with me on that compartment mate, you're the best brother I could ask for - Merlin, don't tell George I said that, he'll take the piss out of me. Oh and thanks for sticking with me last year, the last seven years really. I wouldn't've blamed you if you decided to bugger of and be pals with someone with a less demanding lifestyle than mine."

Ron only looked slightly baffled before he put his own hands back on Harry's shoulders. "T'was and tis my pleasure my dear Harry. You know us Weasley's, we stick together. I couldn't just leave my brother could I?" They looked at each other for a moment before stepping forwards and sharing a hug, something they didn't do often - but it felt right.

The pair of them broke apart as the streetlight above them flickered on weakly, casting a dull orange glow over them. Ron held out an arm to Harry, whose glasses were slightly squint and were reflecting the light from above them.

"Guess we should head back before Mum realises we're gone, eh?" Harry grinned at Ron's nervous smile and nodded, grasping Ron's arm.

"Yeah, that would be a good idea. D'you think she'll have noticed?"

Ron glanced quickly behind him to assure that no one was looking at them from the street, before he shrugged his shoulders.

"Nah, I think we should be good."

They disappeared with a crack.

XxX

**Authors Note:** Hello everyone! Two fics in one day, I'm treating you all! Just wanted to thank you all for your lovely reviews on my previous oneshots. I read every single review, but I'm awful when it comes to technology so I don't know how to reply through email. Please just know that I appreciate all the love!

Also, that multi-chaptered Hinny fic will be on its way soon (at last I hear you cry)! I have the first three chapters written and I'll begin uploading them once I have a few more completed. Thank you for your patience :)


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